Firsts
by Pemberly
Summary: The first few years of Maka and Soul's partnership were anything but smooth. Series focused around the duo's first experiences together. Prequel to the series
1. First Meeting

Get ready, Shibusen, here comes Soul Evans! Demon scythe extraordinaire, coolest guy in town, ladies' man and -

Ah, who did he think he was kidding? Just like his piano playing was nothing special at home, his weapon abilities were hardly outstanding here. One more place where he wasn't extraordinary. Scuffing the side of his left runner sulkily against the rail of the great grey stairs, Soul took his first steps into the school that would be his second home for the next few years of his life.

What an eyesore. He had expected something prestigious, something grand and old and … and … something that was not … _this_ from the famed weapon-meister academy. A towering castle made from dark grey stone, perhaps, rising ominously from the hillside, surrounded by a black spiked fence, turrets and all that jazz. Yeah. After all, this was the school built by Death himself, used for training elite forces to combat evil – it should look _threatening, _it should look _menacing_, it should look _cool_…

Really, the whole thing just looked stupid.

The red spikes could have looked intimidating, yet they were far too bright in colour to be scary, managing to resemble red crayons rather than … whatever it was they were meant to resemble. The candles, sure, he could understand that maybe they looked good at night, but in the bright sun, flames transparent in the light and great globs of wax dripping sluggishly onto the giant skulls that marked the entrance … yeah, not so much. Actually, speaking of skulls, Soul was starting to tire of the motif very quickly. All over the acceptance letter, the textbooks, the suggested uniforms, the city gates, the shops, the houses – skulls skulls skulls skulls skulls. It was overkill.

Not cool.

Well, better than staying at home with his genius brother and disappointed parents (they were disappointed in _him_, of course, not Wes. No one was ever disappointed in Wes). Fresh start and all that jazz. Hunching his shoulders and fixing his face into an intimidating scowl (or, at least, _he_ thought it was intimidating) he entered the school's antechamber, completely ignoring the blue-haired boy standing atop one of the huge red spikes (_crayons)_, spruiking himself for all he was worth.

A plump woman with blonde ringlets and a clipboard ambushed him the moment he stepped through the door.

'Name?'

Soul blanched and stared dumbly at her for a moment before answering.

'Soul.'

The lady tutted and shook her head 'Full name.'

'Oh. Soul Ev-' a thought struck him just as he was speaking. What if people here had heard of his family? They weren't celebrity famous or anything, but they were well known. Once people found out who his brother was, everything would turn to shit. First, the expectations, then the disappointment and lastly – and worst of all – the sympathy. He didn't need that. You know. Fresh start and all that jazz. '-ater'

'What?'

'Soul Eater.'

Black eyebrows (Ah. She must dye her hair. He knew that a colour that bright couldn't be natural) disappeared under a blonde fringe 'You don't seem too certain about that.'

'Well, it's my name.' Shoulder's hunched even more, Soul tried to push past the interfering woman to join the growing crowd of students he could see over her cardiganed shoulder.

'Sorry.' She held an arm out to stop him, displaying an alarming speed. 'I can't seem to find your name on my list.'

'It should be there.' Unfortunately, the lady also possessed an alarming strength, something which Soul discovered as he tried to remove her arm from his path.

'Your name isn't here.' She told him once more, as he sat dazed on the cold floor, where she had pushed him down a moment ago. How embarrassing. 'But,' her eyes acquired a sort of triumphant glint as she flipped through the pages of her clipboard 'I _do_ have a Soul Evans, a demon scythe. That wouldn't happen to be you?'

Sheepishly picking himself off the floor, Soul could only mutter his assent and mumble something about 'Typos'.

'Of course.' She smiled sweetly 'Now, I see you've requested a residence here in Death City?'

Soul wanted to reply with something _incredibly_ witty along the lines of 'What's it to you?' but was wary of this woman's attacking power.

'Yes.'

'Excellent. You will be living with this young lady over here. You will also be serving as her weapon.'

Seemingly out of nowhere, she plucked a small figure with dirty blonde hair out of the crowd by the arm. Large green eyes blinked at him surprisedly, and a delicate mouth hung agape.

There was an awkward pause as the two stared at each other.

'Look, lady, no offence, but I wanted a house to myself,' said Soul, once he regained his composure.

'Um, I also requested a single residence,' the girl chimed in. Her voice was surprisingly … deep. Not deep deep, like Soul's own voice (because his voice was ridiculous), just … deeper than he expected. She didn't sound unfeminine or anything, she just … whatever. He didn't care. He wasn't staying with her.

'Death City is suffering a housing crisis at the moment. It comes from packing a city onto a mountain in the middle of the desert. Anyone requesting residencies must share with at least one other student. Sorry.' The woman didn't seem particularly sorry, but before Soul had the chance to express his views on her apology, she was off to harass a girl with short pink hair who had just entered the room.

Fuming inside, Soul cast his eyes over the milling body of students, some talking and laughing happily, others standing uncomfortably by themselves, trying not to draw attention to their isolation. This was not a good start; this was not a good start _at all_. If the rest of his time here was going to be as shitty as this, he was leaving, that was it, no way was he sticking round here, no –

'Hi. My name's Maka Albarn.'

Startled, Soul once more faced the girl he was to be paired with. Too late, he realised that she was holding out a hand for him to shake. He held out his hand, but she had already begun to retract her hand. She changed her hand's direction, but not quickly enough, because Soul had pulled his hand away and –

And it was all very awkward.

'I'm Soul. Soul Eater.'

'Oh. Nice to meet you.'

'Nice to meet you too.'

There was really nothing more to say.

The girl – Maka – looked determinedly down at the floor, giving Soul the chance to fully examine her. She was very skinny, flat-chested and looked weak. How she was going to pick him up in his weapon form, let alone _fight_ with him, he did not know. Her dark blonde hair (natural, he suspected, because if you were going to dye your hair, you certainly wouldn't be dying it _that_ colour) was drawn up into _pigtails_, for God's sake. She looked about _seven_. Nice eyes though. Nice colour.

'So,' Maka said, after around a millennia of silence 'what do you think we should do?'

About what? Soul thought. About having to share a house even though we're strangers? About you being too weak to be an effective meister? About _global warming_? Be more _specific_.

'I dunno,' seemed a pretty safe answer.

'Well, I don't think anyone's giving us a speech or a tour, so we may as well do _something_.' She gestured to a girl with dark, shoulder-length hair and an almost bald boy with glasses who were walking past, seemingly to explore the school 'Walk around the academy for a bit, maybe?'

Soul shrugged 'Sure.'

They turned and walked through a doorway into a cream-coloured corridor silently together. Other students seemed to have realised that they weren't being called to do anything and were similarly breaking off to look around, some chatting animatedly with their new partners, others, like Soul and Maka, using this exercise as an excuse to look everywhere except at each other.

The weapon and his new meister's footsteps echoed loudly on the floor as they walked. They were the only ones to have chosen this corridor, so there was no chance of being distracted by others. Fabulous. All Soul had wanted was to get away from his family and have a fresh start (and all that jazz) somewhere else, somewhere new, somewhere _different_, somewhere he could actually be _good_ at something. Instead, he now had to share a house (how big would the house be? Would they have to share a room? He hoped not) with a girl he had only just met with whom he could barely keep up a civil amount of conversation and who didn't look like she couldn't fight off a mild breeze, rendering all chances of him actually succeeding in doing something like, oh, let's say, becoming a friggin' death scythe close to zero and -

And then, he saw it. Through the glass pane of a door, his eyes rested on the very object of his dreams. It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, shining from the reflected sunlight streaming in through the classroom window. Black as night and absolutely magical, it called to him, begging to be used, imploring him to run his hands down its spine, coax out beautiful melodies, draw forth from it enchanting songs and –

'Do you play piano?' Soul had unknowingly stopped in his tracks to stare at the instrument, and Maka had noticed.

'Yes,' he replied automatically. Then he caught himself. 'I mean, no I don't, I don't play piano.' He wanted to leave who he had been in the past in the past. Fresh start and all that jazz. Maka looked confused. Soul swore inwardly. 'I mean, I don't play well. I'm a very bad player.'

Oh, smooth. Not suspicious _at all_. Sign him for the FBI right away, he was so good at covering his tracks.

'Well, I don't play period.' Maka dropped her eyes to the floor for a second before asking 'Would you play something for me?'

Aw crap. 'No. I'm not good enough.'

Maka laughed – she had a sweet laugh. 'You'll be better than me. Go on, I probably won't be able to tell if you're terrible or not anyway.'

Maybe it was because doing so meant that they wouldn't have to suffer silently together for at least a few minutes, or maybe it was because Maka had actually laughed and diffused some of the previous awkwardness, or maybe it was even because that girl had nice eyes, but Soul gave in and found himself seated down in front of the grand piano. Whipped already.

'This is the kind of guy I am.' He took a deep breath and played a song of his own creation.

It was in a minor key, very dark but not slow. Soul had quick fingers and he put them to good use, running up and down the octaves, never stumbling over the strange intervals, always moving, moving, moving. Crescendos were built and then deconstructed, discordant harmonies rang out and twisted notes flew from the black instrument.

When he was finished, he could hear Maka applauding. He smiled to himself. At least he'd found _someone_ who liked his playing. He swivelled around in his chair to find Maka positively _beaming_. Wow. She really mustn't know anything about music.

Grinning, he held out his hand to meet Maka's for the first time. This was getting interesting. Maybe he would stick around for a bit, just to see how things would turn out.

Besides, she did have nice eyes.


	2. First Supper

They hadn't spoken for half an hour now, despite being seating less than two feet away from each other. Maka knew because she had been timing.

It was a shame, though, because it had been quite a promising beginning. Well, apart from all the awkward silences. And the staring at the floor. Also apart from both of them blurting out practically simultaneously that they didn't want to live together. Oh, and apart from the failed handshake.

Still, after Soul had played that gorgeous piece on the piano and they had (_successfully_) shaken hands, things took a turn for the better. They talked about Shibusen, and what they thought being students would be like. Soul had said that he wanted to become a death scythe (although he didn't say _why_) and Maka had promised him that she would try her hardest to make that happen. He had raised his eyebrows at that, and she got the sense that he didn't believe her. Pushing past her indignation, because, after all, they _had_ just met, Maka asked Soul about his piano playing.

How long had he been playing? Where had he learnt to play like that? She wasn't trying to compliment him, she was genuinely curious. He started to look uncomfortable, and evaded her questions. She wished _she_ knew how to play an instrument, she had said, piano or flute or violin or –

Like a light turning out, he'd clammed up. He stopped answering her questions, nodding his head slightly at whatever she said, eyes looking slightly to her left, obviously not listening. To compensate for his silence, she started talking loudly and incessantly, prattling on about anything and everything until she ran out of steam. Then they just sat there, him on the piano stool, her on the low table on which she had perched herself.

It was a relief when Nygus fetched them and told them that all new students were required to meet back in the antechamber. They were to be given information about term dates, subjects, life insurance and, if students had chosen to live in Death City, maps to their new homes. Maka liked Nygus – she was new to the staff, but had attended Shibusen and Maka still remembered her as a student.

When she'd been very little, one day while accompanying her father to work, she became lost in the Shibusen grounds. Her father had been distracted by a new, _female_ teacher and, completely forgetting about his own small daughter, ran off after the staff member. Maka had wandered the corridors frantically for what felt like _hours_, trying her hardest not to cry before being found by a heavily bandaged senior student – a girl named Nygus. Holding firmly onto Maka's hand, Nygus had marched through the halls as though she were leading the Queen to her throne, not saying much, but still being a comforting presence. Once Maka was reunited with her father, Nygus, despite being far inferior in status to the young death scythe, had yelled at him for fifteen minutes about leaving his daughter alone, throwing names like pervert, sleaze and monster at him with such venom that Maka was surprised he didn't just fry up right there on the spot.

Surprisingly, Nygus was also one of the few young women whom her father wouldn't hit on.

The walk to the antechamber had been (thankfully) filled with conversation between herself and Nygus. Maka kept checking Soul's face to see if he were curious at all about how she already knew a Shibusen staff member, but he looked deep in thought and didn't seem to care about her acquaintances. Fine. If he were going to keep this up, she would just swap partners after the obligatory one month trial period, no skin off _her_ nose. She marched into the antechamber to be debriefed about life at Shibusen feeling comfortably superior.

Afterwards, while walking through the streets of Death City next to her new weapon, weighed down by information about term dates, subjects, life insurance and trying to read the convoluted map held in her hands, Maka was struck by the realization that she was still going to have to spend a month with this boy. She may as well try to make things … _civil_.

'So, which subjects are you thinking of taking?' She asked, hoping to (once more) break the ice. Not a bad topic of conversation, actually. Something they could both have an opinion on. A conversation around it could potentially last for a good half hour.

Soul, not looking at her, replied with 'I dunno.'

Was he _trying_ to make this difficult and painful? 'Come one,' she said cheerily, although she wasn't a very good actor and it came out more like pleadingly, 'I'm sure you must have _some_ idea about what you want to take!'

The boy shrugged, which was quite a feat considering just how hunched over his shoulders were (Straighten up, she felt like yelling, you look like an idiot!). 'Are first year students even allowed to choose subjects?'

'Oh.' Maka reached inside her bag to retrieve her Shibusen course guide. Five minutes of flipping through it later, she said 'No. We're not.'

'Not what?' God, this guy was absolutely _infuriating_.

'Not allowed to choose our subjects.'

'Oh.'

'Yeah.'

When they reached the apartment (her apartment now, she guessed – no, wait, _their_ apartment), they were able to go about their own business, checking out the rooms and the furniture. The place was completely bare, save for two white, single beds in the (oh, thank the Lord) _separate_ bedrooms, and a cream coloured couch in the living room.

'Only one bathroom.' Maka heard Soul say as she was leaning out of the window in one of the bedrooms.

'Oh.' She turned around to see him slouching (straighten _up!_) in the doorway, hands in pockets, avoiding her eyes. 'Is that a problem?'

'No. I was more worried about you.' Ha! He looked at her! Maka wasn't sure why this felt like such a victory, but it did.

'It's fine with me.'

'Ok.' With that, he left.

That had been perplexing. Why would she have a problem with sharing a bathroom? Was it because he was a guy? Did he think she was the sort of girl that gets upset about the toilet seat being left up? He already seemed to think her unworthy of being his meister, from what she'd seen in the piano room. _Who was he to make such judgments about her?_

Five minutes later, she had calmed herself down and returned to the living room. Seeing him lounging casually on the couch, she decided that, because of her forgiving heart and generous nature, she would sit next to him and try to make pleasant conversation, _even if it killed her_.

It had now been half an hour, and neither of them had said a word.

That didn't mean that it had been _silent_, oh no, because evidently this scruffy, grumpy, _slouchy_ boy was determined to make her life a living hell. He kept playing with his fingers, tapping out unheard melodies on the armrest, occasionally making small, sucking noises with his mouth and tongue. His stomach rumbled every now and then, and although he would look faintly embarrassed, he didn't apologise. Maka knew that they should probably do something about dinner, but hell if _she_ were going to be the one to suggest it.

Maka surreptitiously checked her watch. Forty-five minutes.

Oh, for Pete's sake!

'Look!' The unexpected sound of her voice after such a long period of silence made Soul jump, something which gave Maka a feeling of deep satisfaction, 'I don't know what your problem with me is, but we still have to live together for at least a month, so _get over it_.'

She expected the boy to be apologetic, or at least shocked, but instead he bit back.

'What makes you think I have a problem with you?'

'You won't talk to me! You just _sit there_, fiddling and making _annoying noises_!'

Soul opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to think better of it. He shrugged his shoulders and huddled into himself, looking away from her.

Great. He was probably just shy and unused to talking with _girls_ or something. She'd probably just ruined his self-confidence, and now things would be irrevocably awkward between them, forever and amen.

After a short while, Maka asked quietly, 'What do you want to do about dinner?'

'I could really go for a burger right now.' Soul admitted.

As she walked to her suitcase to find her purse, she pondered about whether or not she should apologise. Had she even done anything wrong? What exactly _had _happened? She snuck a look at him from under her arm. He was crouched over his own suitcase, back towards her. Then, she saw his white-haired head duck down and try to sneak a look at her under _his_ arm, exactly as she'd done. He met her green eyes with his red ones and for a moment they just stared at each other, before each blushed and turned away.

Straightening up, Maka said 'I know that there's a really nice burger joint a couple of streets from here, we could check that out.'

'Cool.' Soul was now standing up, 'I'll pay.'

'No, you don't have –'

'Trust me,' he said with a grin 'my family can afford it.'

Maka felt the urge to protest rising, the urge to tell him that she didn't _need_ his money and that she could take care of herself just fine, thank you very much. But it was getting late and she was hungry, and maybe this was his way of apologising for the awkwardness or something.

Fine. She would let him win, but only just this once.


	3. First Class

The girl was seriously weird.

Soul snuck a look at her solemnly walking beside him, hair pulled up into the same stupid pigtails and the same uniform with the long black coat pulled over it.

Oh God. She was going to dress like that every day, wasn't she?

Retracing their steps back from their apartment to Shibusen was a lot faster than their earlier journey along the same path, and Maka, despite her initial failings at map-reading, turned out to know her way around Death City quite well. Occasionally, she would wave at a passer-by on the street, or stop for a quick 'hello' with a cheerfully grinning citizen.

She'd spent a lot of her childhood hanging around Death City and Shibusen, she had told him the night before after being accosted by the waiter at the hamburger joint they'd eaten at, due to mother being a Death Scythe meister. She'd known most of the teachers at the school since she was young, and was friends with many of the shopkeepers and workers.

While she had prattled on about her life, Soul couldn't help noticing that, while she was more than happy to talk about her mother (and he did mean _more than happy_), she avoided the subject of her father altogether. Oh well. Who was he to pry?

Unfortunately, it seemed Maka did not share this same ethos. Their dinner had revealed that her favorite things to do included reading, studying and trying her hardest to interrogate Soul about things about which he did not want to talk, namely his music and his family.

He'd had his doubts in the beginning, but now everything was clear to him. This girl was a total nightmare, and their partnership was never going to work. The end of the one-month trial period couldn't come soon enough.

As they climbed the steps to the school, Maka seemed to notice Soul watching her, because she smiled nervously and started talking quickly. 'The school was actually designed by Lord Death, did you know? He has quite … eccentric tastes. Have you ever met him? No, I suppose not. I thought it was weird that he didn't come and great the new students, he's normally quite personable but I guess –'

'YAHOOO!'

Soul nearly shat himself as a blue-haired boy appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grinning manically, standing far too close to Soul's face for comfort.

'How does it feel to be in the presence of the MIGHTY BLACK STAR on his soon-to-be-legendary FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL?' said the boy, grabbing both of Soul's shoulders.

'Uh …' Soul replied eloquently, heart still thumping.

'Don't worry! It's normal for plebes to feel ashamed of themselves in comparison to me! You will learn to live with it!' Who the hell _was_ this little shithead?

'Hey Black Star!' Soul turned to find his new meister beaming at the little shithead. 'Found a weapon yet?'

'Of course! While it's hard for a mere weapon to match up to my level of brilliance, I've finally found someone who almost contains the same amount of awesome as me!' Black Star gestured wildly behind him, and Soul was surprised to discover that a tall girl was standing there silently, a small smile on her lips. 'This is Tsubaki!'

'Nice to meet you,' said the girl, bowing slightly. She was absolutely beautiful, and looked quite a bit older than the other kids Soul had seen in their year level, with large, dark blue eyes and black hair that fell to her waist. How had a dumb kid like that managed to land such a hottie? There was no justice in the world.

'Isn't she great? She can turn into a chain-scythe and a smoke bomb and a body double and a shruiken!' Tsubaki continued to smile politely, seeming not to mind that she was being advertised as though she were a car. The blue-haired kid grinned competitively and looked Soul up and down. 'What about your weapon, Maka? What can _he_ do?'

'This is Soul Eater,' said Maka, leaning forwards, hands on hips, 'he can play piano and turn into a … a …' she blanched and her eyes widened as she stopped in mid sentence, staring embarrassedly at Soul. Ah. She didn't know what his weapon form was. He guessed he hadn't actually told her yet. How uncool.

'I'm a scythe,' he growled, transforming his arm into a blade with a flash of blue light, just for effect.

'Oh no.' To Soul's surprise, Maka turned an even paler shade of white and looked even more horrified. Black Star burst out laughing.

'What? What's so funny?' Asked Soul defensively, retracting his blade self-consciously. He couldn't compete with the tall, beautiful girl and her different weapon forms, he knew that, but there was nothing too terrible about his weapon… was there?

Neither of the meisters was listening to him.

'Shut up!' Maka was a tomato red as she yelled at Black Star, who was practically rolling around on the ground laughing. 'It's not like that!'

'Oh man, oh man,' said Black Star, wiping tears from his eyes, 'I mean, I knew you had daddy issues, but I didn't think they went _this_ far.'

'I said shut up! I didn't even choose him!'

'Daddy issues, daddy issues!'

A loud tolling sounded in the distance.

'I think that's the bell,' said Tsubaki in a quiet voice.

Maka rushed forwards with her head down, cheeks still luminescent. Black Star half-ran half-danced next to her, laughing and taunting. Tsubaki trotted just behind her meister and Soul, despite resenting it with all his heart, was forced to follow behind Maka, seeing as she knew where to go – he hadn't looked over his timetable or map yet.

When they reached a high-ceilinged classroom with rows upon rows of benches, Soul noticed that Maka was trying very hard to avoid his eye as he sat next to her. Did she know something he didn't? She seemed like she was a total bookworm, so maybe she could tell that he was a weak weapon or something. Maybe scythes were considered shitty weapons, he wouldn't know, he grew up in a family revolving around music for Christ's sake! Friggin' hell, and he'd just thought he'd finally found something he could excel in …

'Everyone, sit down and welcome to your first day here at Shibusen.' A tall, muscular black man whom Soul had seen the day before talking to the woman in bandages that Maka seemed to know was standing at the base of the classroom. 'My name is Mr. Sid. From this day forth, you will all be assigned the difficult but necessary task of vanquishing the corrupted souls who roam this Earth, threatening the lives of innocent humans. You must be dedicated and determined, because it will not be an easy task, and you will acquire many scars and injuries along the way. Those who do not think they can handle the brutal life of a Weapon or Meister under Lord Death's control are advised to leave now, because …' Blah blah blah blah blah. Whatever. Soul had read it all in the brochure.

He turned to look at Maka. She was sitting straight-backed next to him, looking alert and trying to absorb all the crap the dude at the front of the room was spouting, although the fact that her cheeks were still bright red gave away her embarrassment and anger. The cause of that embarrassment and anger was sitting on her other side. Black Star was whispering 'Daddy issues, daddy issues,' in a never-ending stream into her ear, a huge, goofy grin on his face.

'One thing which must always be remembered is that the size and shape is not important, but the soul. Souls and soul-wavelengths are crucial to being able to use a Weapon and pairs must form strong partnerships in order to survive and successfully carry out their duties …' Was that guy still rabbiting on?

Maka's mouth was being pressed into a smaller and smaller line and her nostrils were flaring wildly. Black Star had not abated. Soul watched with interest as his Meister gave up on all pretence of listening to the teacher and turned towards Black Star hissing, 'I do _not_ have an Electra Complex.'

Black Star gleefully whispered back 'I don't even know what that means, but that just proves I'm right!'

'What!' Maka leaned in closer 'That doesn't even make sense!'

'Yes it does! I'm always right! You have daddy issues!'

'You are so de -!'

'Well, it looks like Ms Maka Albarn has just volunteered herself for a little demonstration! Come up to the front, please.'

Maka gave a small gasp as she turned around to see the rest of the class staring at her. Soul smiled to himself – this was karma for her yelling at him yesterday out of the blue and being less than impressed with his weapon form.

'Your Weapon should come up too.'

Not cool.

'So, Maka, who is this?' Asked the teacher.

It was really starting to bug Soul how everyone was talking about him as though he weren't there, instead deferring to a girl who hadn't even known his weapon form until ten minutes earlier.

'This is Soul Eater.'

'And what is his weapon form?'

Maka paused for a moment before answering. 'He's a scythe.'

The teacher did a double take. 'A scythe?'

'Yes,' replied Maka through gritted teeth, 'a scythe.'

Sid bent down to her level and said, in a voice which he obviously thought wouldn't travel to the rest of the class, 'Maka, you do know that your father –'

'Yes, of course I do!'

She was blushing harder than ever.

'Well, ok then. I'd like you two to demonstrate what I was just talking about -– synchronizing soul-wavelengths. You both need to face each other,' they did so grudgingly 'take each others' hands,' they did so even more grudgingly 'close your eyes and breathe deeply.'

How embarrassing. A whole classroom full of strangers was watching him holding hands with a chick that appeared to hate him for no reason whatsoever.

'Now, you should each focus on the other. What do you know about this person? What are they like? You need to search for their soul, you need to connect with it, with them.'

Um, ok.

What did he know about Maka? Not a hell of a lot, seeing as they hadn't even known each other for twenty-four hours yet. She liked to read, he guessed, seemed to have a short fuse, idolized her mom and evidently has some issues with her dad, which was somehow connected with him.

Not a lot to work with.

This was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. This whole school was stupid and _uncool_. What the hell was he doing here? He didn't know the first thing about finding someone else's soul-wavelength, whatever that even was.

'Meisters are only able to wield Weapons if their soul-wavelengths are aligned, which is why this exercise is so important. Some people have naturally incompatible wavelengths, meaning that they'll never be able to wield one another. Visualizing a similar or same image sometimes helps wavelength alignment, or experiencing similar emotions, reliving the same memories. It must always be remembered that just because two people may have different personalities, this doesn't mean that they can't align wavelengths.'

Great. He was never going to be able to do this. He just knew that he wouldn't be able to align with _anyone_, meaning that he couldn't function as a Weapon, meaning that he should just pack his bags and toddle off home, to face the _indifference_ of his parents, to see his brother smile pityingly and say –

Wait a second. What was that?

Far in the outer edges of his consciousness, Soul felt a small flicker of uncertainty and fear that didn't belong to him. Cautiously, he probed it in his mind and found that it flitted just out of grasp, teasing him. Like a far off streetlight surrounded by fog, if he concentrated on it too hard its light would dull and seem to shrink, so he concentrated _around_ it. Now he could see its light more clearly, _feel_ it, without actually knowing exactly what it looked like.

A small, sharp intake of breath and a slight tightening of the hands that covered his own told him that Maka had felt something too. Scrunching up his eyes even harder, trying to block out the faint buzz of covert conversation being held by students, Soul focused on the small ball of feelings that were not his own, and found that it was morphing into something brighter, something just out of range, a happier emotion.

It was frustrating him, he wanted to just reach out and grab whatever it was that danced on the fringes of his mind, but something told him that if he did that, he would lose the feeling altogether. Instead, he relaxed into himself and, as cliché and uncool as it sounded, he opened his mind. To his joy, he found the flicker growing brighter and steadier, until he could almost feel its warmth inside his skin. It was no longer composed of fear, but of elation and relief, mirroring his own emotions. His body felt calm and comfortable, as though it belonged.

'Congratulations,' said Mr. Sid, 'you've successfully aligned both your soul-wavelengths. I am very impressed.'

Opening his eyes slowly, so as not to accidently lose the alignment, Soul found Maka staring back at him in amazement. He could feel her soul buzzing with glee, growing larger and taking his soul with it, amplifying his own happiness at finally, _finally_, discovering something he was very good at.

'Man,' he heard Black Star call from the benches 'those are _some_ daddy issues.'


	4. First Mission

Maka couldn't breathe.

It had been two weeks since she had first aligned her soul wavelength with her Weapon and she had excelled at everything – Soul Theory, PE, English, Combat Skills, Math and First Aid. She had excelled so much that Lord Death had decided that she was ready for her first mission, something that was completely unprecedented for a student so young, so untrained …

Hadn't she just been _thrilled_ to accept such an honourable mission, hadn't she just been so _eager_ to prove herself and – oh God, she couldn't _breathe -_

Her mind was filled with nothing and everything, swirls of panic and despair and surreal, disjointed thoughts about how the tag on her skirt was starting to itch on her back after her shirt had become untucked and how it was actually quite a nice day, really, if she weren't paralysed with fear in front of a three-metre tall monster.

She hated herself at this moment, for being so weak and pathetic, for having scoffed at stories involving Meisters who had just given up without fighting, who had met their deaths in the most cowardly way imaginable, huddled up and crying weakly, but now she was learning the hard way that reading about something in a book and experiencing it in real life were two very, very different things. She could smell the beast, the foul odour coming from places she didn't want to think about, the iron smell of blood and flesh dripping off its claws and the dried saliva caked over its slavering maws, its physical presence dominating her, suffocating her. She could see its chest muscles ripple with every guttural, growling breath, it was so close, it was so _real_ –

'What the hell do you think you're doing?' Soul's voice came warped from the weapon held in her hands, but also from a place inside her mind, a sensation that she still was not quite used to. His sounded angry – no, _furious_. 'Don't just stand there, move! You're gonna get yourself killed!'

Didn't he understand? She couldn't move, because there was no point in moving. She was just small, weak Maka, and the monster Lord Death had oh-so-wisely chosen for them to tackle was huge and powerful. Her best bet was to just stand as still as possible and hope that the thing would mistake her for a tree or some very long grass. At least, that's what her instincts were telling her to do and really, who was she to argue with them? They'd evolved alongside humans for millions of years and if they failed her, well, that's just natural selection, she guessed, no fault of her own and – oh God, the monster was so close now –

'Maka!' The sound of her name jerked her back into reality. Soul's voice was still angry, but tinged with panicked desperation. 'Friggin' move, _now_! D'you wanna die on your first mission? Jesus!'

'I can't.' Her voice sounded feeble in her ears - a reflection on her own personal state of being, she thought hysterically. It was closer than ever, its breath tickling her nose and neck, flecks of saliva hitting her cheeks. Its eyes glinted and it raised a shimmering limb -

'Shit!'

A flash of blue light and Maka could feel rough hands grabbing her arm, pulling her out of the way as a claw tore up the empty air in which she had been standing moments before. She stumbled after Soul, who was leading her roughly through the heavily wooded area which surrounded them, something that she realised she should have done earlier, because, due to the its immense size, it would take a while for the creature to follow them.

After a while, Soul stopped abruptly and, panting, asked 'Are you … insane?'

Breathing loudly, Maka couldn't do anything but shake her head.

'Of all the people …' Soul apparently couldn't finish his sentence, because he put his palms to his forehead and rubbed. Hard.

'I'm sorry.' Maka's feelings were generously allowing her to feel completely mortified about her actions, as well as terrified and hysterical. As her heart's thudding faded, Maka was left feeling incredibly tired. She wanted to go _home_, she wanted to curl up in her bed and never leave. She was tired and bruised and cold and hungry and everything _ached. _'I guess I just … I just … I don't know.' Ashamed and defeated, she crumpled to the ground.

'Crap –' eyes rapidly filling with tears, Maka could only just make out Soul's figure half-crouching near her, hands held out in front of him, unsure of what to do.

'I'm sorry,' She repeated, looking down at the ground 'we should report back to Shibusen, tell them about my failure. You can find a new partner after they send someone else out to deal with all this.'

'Um, ok … ' Maka could tell that Soul still didn't quite know how to react.

'The month-long trial period is almost up, and we probably won't be called out for any missions before then.' She looked up at him crouching over her and smiled weakly, 'You don't have to worry.'

CRASH.

'Shit!' Soul sprung up, facing the direction of the noise. 'Looks like it's found us again!'

'What?' Maka got up gingerly, eyes frantically searching through the trees. 'I thought we'd gotten away from it!'

'Guess we didn't run far enough.' Soul growled.

Like a clamp being snapped over her stomach, Maka's overwhelming fear resurfaced. Limbs shaking, sweating, she felt sick. She was going to throw up, oh God, she was going to throw up –

'Maka! I'm gonna transform now, ok?'

'Wait -!' She squawked, but there was already a flash of blue light, and she could feel the cool metal of Soul's shaft in her hands, murkily sense the quiet thrumming of his soul.

'I-I can't do this!' She felt close to tears again, the sound of trees being slashed in half growing louder and louder.

'Sure you can!' Soul's face appeared on his blade, voice strainingly cheerful 'Just thinks of it as training!'

'You can't get killed in training!'

'I dunno, Sid looks like he can get pretty nasty.'

But Maka wasn't listening – she _couldn't _listen, because the only thing that registered with her was the beast, the creature, the monster, the death of her, the thing she had been training for two long weeks to combat but was still going crush her like a bug and now she could actually see its hunched-over figure hulking through the trees –

One of the loudest crashes yet sounded from the huge silhouette and a spike of unfamiliar fear tore through Maka, sending her reeling. Some external force squashed it down as quickly as it had appeared, but Maka still felt it clearly. Confused, she looked for its source.

Her eyes fell on Soul, clutched in her sweaty gloves.

''S cool,' his face appeared in the blade, 'I'm fine.'

But it _wasn't_ cool, and he _wasn't_ fine. Now that Maka thought to look for it, she could feel his fear – no, his abject _terror_ – pulsing through his soul. Concentrating harder, she could also feel his anger at his terror and his clumsy attempts to hide his panic from her so as not to scare her more, clumsy attempts which had _worked_, because she had been just so caught up in herself, hadn't she? She hadn't thought to wonder at how her Weapon and partner was doing.

She was such an idiot.

Realization stole over her. It didn't matter that she was scared and it didn't matter that she was weak. What mattered was that there was someone depending on her, someone she had to keep safe. There was, quite literally, a life in her hands, and if she failed the consequences wouldn't just affect her. For Soul's sake, she had to defeat this enemy.

A roar alerted her to the fact that, whilst she had been contemplating her duties as a Meister, the beast had cleared the trees around them. Filled with new resolve, she assumed an offensive position and looked the monster right in the eyes.

As a shining claw cut through the air towards her, Maka lifted her scythe and blocked it, surprised at how easily she could fend it off. Howling miserably, the creature tripped backwards, and now Maka could see that, despite its flashing eyes and long talons, the monster itself wasn't particularly strong. Its bones were brittle and its arms looked weak.

Hardly daring to believe it, Maka curved Soul in an elegant arc towards the beast, towards the chest that it had left completely unprotected in its surprise at Maka's fighting back, and found almost no resistance. Before her eyes, the creature dissolved into black smoke, leaving behind an angry red orb that she supposed must be his soul.

Wait a second.

She had just defeated her first kishin egg.

She had just collected her first soul.

It had been so easy, so _ridiculously_ easy.

Staring at the glowing, red mass dangling in mid-air, Maka began to laugh weakly with relief. Of course. Of _course_ Lord Death wouldn't send new students out to face high-level creatures. The thing she had just faced had been all show and no substance. She had forgotten the first lesson that Sid had taught them – the size and shape is not important, but the soul. Some A+ student she was, Maka thought, laughing louder.

A flash of blue light and Soul transformed back into his human body, facing away from her, hunched over himself, hands on his stomach. Grabbing a hold of his shoulders, Maka swung him round to hug him or kiss him or congratulate him, she didn't know, she didn't _care_, she was just so deliriously happy at completing her first mission and at both of them _being alive_.

Soul gave her an apologetic look and threw up all down the front of her black coat.


	5. First Aid

He didn't think he could ever go through something like that again.

No one had told Soul that his Meister's fear would be felt just as harshly by him as it would be by her, no one had told him that in the dark space of his weapon form the only thing that he could focus on was Maka and her panic. No one had told him that when he was in weapon form he would be so friggin' _useless_, and that if his Meister was unable to fight, than he would be too.

Jesus Christ.

Also, no one had told him about the side effects of being thrown around and swung about like a ragdoll whilst being under intense emotional duress – namely, barfing all over a girl who was, really, little more than a stranger.

Soul cringed at the memory, leaning forwards and rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. He was sitting in a small hospital room on a small hospital bed. After the completion of their mission and after the evacuation of his stomach, Soul and Maka had discovered that they had been secretly watched by Sid and Nygus from a small distance the whole time, just to make sure that they wouldn't be in too much danger. Soul had to wonder exactly what counted as 'too much danger' if nearly being killed wasn't enough to halt the battle.

They had then been taken into the small village nearby to be checked over and cleaned up. Aside from a few scratches and bruises acquired due to running through the dense woodland, both had been fine and, to his eternal shame, Maka was taken out for a shower and a new, vomit-free, change of clothes.

Oh God. He couldn't believe that he'd actually thrown up on her.

'You do know that he's desperate to see you, to make sure that you're safe?'

Soul's head snapped up as he heard Nygus's voice outside his door.

'I know,' replied his Meister's muffled voice. 'But Mama's forbidden him from annoying me for at least my first month at Shibusen, so he can find out that I'm safe without seeing me.'

'He's being pretty persistent – you know how he gets. Sid was never a man to deny a father access to his daughter.'

'I know that it's really selfish of me, but I just want to establish myself at Shibusen first without his … association.'

Nygus sighed. 'Trust me, I do understand. I've made my thoughts on your father perfectly clear in the past, but I still don't think that this is the best way to handle the situation.'

'I'm sorry.' Maka's voice was small, and Soul had to strain to catch her words – not that he was listening in, or anything. That would be totally uncool. 'It's just … hard.'

It was strange, trying to connect that faltering, apologetic voice with the girl whose eyes had blazed and who had swung him so gracefully to meet the claws of the monster they had battled.

'As is everything. You should check on your Weapon now.' Soft, brisk footsteps told Soul that Nygus had left his Meister standing by herself in front of his door.

Long moments passed, and Soul wondered why Maka hadn't entered yet. After a few minutes more, he heard her take a deep breath and open the door.

'Hey.' she said softly, leaning just out of the doorframe, speaking as though to an invalid.

'Hey.' Soul replied, supported by his hands and leaning back as nonchalantly as he could while avoiding her eyes like the plague. Oh God. He had thrown up on her. _He had thrown up. On her._

'About today, I – uh –' she was wearing an ill-fitting, baggy jumper and too-small shorts that she had to keep pulling down at the legs. She seemed nervous for some reason. 'I wanted to say – well, I'm kind of embarrassed about the way I acted.'

_She _was embarrassed about how _she_ acted?

'Um, ok?' It seemed that Soul never quite knew what to say or do around this girl – what the hell was up with that?

There was an awkward pause as Maka sat down on the bed next to his legs and faced away from him. Soul found himself sitting up straighter and inspecting his hands closely.

Finally, she broke the silence.

'I know that, when I – when we were in the middle of that forest, that I said that you could – you know – change partners, if you want?' She may have been facing away from him, but Soul could still see her fingers shaking slightly. 'Well, I think that – I mean, I don't know how you feel about it but – I think we make a good team and, well, I'd like it if you stayed on as my Weapon. If you want.'

Despite everything he may have thought about Maka, despite vowing that their partnership would be dissolved at the end of the month, Soul found himself weirdly attracted to the idea of being her Weapon. After all, they had managed to defeat the pre-kishin and collect the corrupted soul. She seemed like a hard-worker, fairly dedicated to achieving her goals – it would make things easier for him, he'd be able to sit back and let her take charge. They _had_ also been promoted to actually being eligible for missions after just two weeks of training, something that was completely unprecedented.

Soul smiled to himself. He'd never done anything that could be considered unprecedented before.

Wait a minute. Something was wrong.

'What actually happened to that corrupted soul?' Soul asked slowly. 'I mean, I don't think we ended up collecting it.'

For the first time since Maka had entered the room, they looked straight at each other. 'Oh no,' Maka's face adopted a horrified look 'I completely forgot about it because of the … well …'

_Because you threw up on me,_ her face said.

'… the excitement.'

Fantastic. Soul had finally, _finally_ done something awesome, done something _cool_, but he'd still found a way to screw it up somehow.

Maka bit her lip. 'It should still be in the woods, but I don't think Nygus would be too happy about us going back there. We're not supposed to move because of our _injuries_.' She scornfully held out her arm, showing him the shallow cut that apparently wasn't even serious enough to warrant bandages.

'What about Sid, then?'

Maka rolled her eyes. 'He's not the kind of man to let children put their lives in danger.'

'So what was with the whole thing about not interfering with our mission even though you were clearly about to faint and get us killed?' Soul grumbled.

Maka flushed and turned away. Soul realized what he had said and opened his mouth to try to say something, _anything_ to fix the situation, but nothing came to mind.

There was a pause.

When Maka finally spoke, her voice was quiet.

'I'm sorry. If I stay with you, I'll be putting us both in danger. I shouldn't have forced you to – I'm sorry.'

Soul felt like bashing his head against the corner of the side table. Despite everything that had happened, they had been having a nice, normal conversation, and he had ruined it by being his normal, tactless self. There was self-loathing written all over her face. She didn't deserve to feel like that.

'Wait,' he said, grabbing Maka's wrist as she got up to leave. She looked down at his hand in surprise, accurately reflecting how Soul felt. He hadn't consciously meant to reach out to her. Weird.

Anyway.

'I want to be your Weapon.' She looked at him skeptically. 'No, I do.'

'But I almost got you killed.'

Soul shrugged. 'It was kinda cool being in a life-threatening situation.' He let go of her wrist and leaned back down on his arms, a picture of casualness, but for some reason his breath seemed to be caught in his throat.

Maka raised an eyebrow. 'I burst into tears.'

'Yeah, well,' Soul took a deep breath. 'I threw up on you,' he said quickly, as though speeding it up would make it less completely and utterly humiliating. 'We weren't exactly the smoothest, but we got the job done.'

This made Maka smile. Just a little, but it was still a smile.

She opened her mouth as though to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

It was Nygus, and she was carrying a glowing, squishy ball of … something.

Soul looked questioningly at Maka, realizing as he did that he seemed to be falling into a pattern of waiting for her to explain unknown things to him.

She did not disappoint.

'You found the soul!'

Ah. Soul hadn't actually had the chance to get a good look at it when they were out on the field, being too busy throwing up and being embarrassed by it, and he'd never had the chance to see one before otherwise.

Nygus looked disapproving. 'Normally we don't allow students to collect souls that they've left behind. It promotes carelessness.' Her mouth twitched behind her bandages. 'But Sid seems to think that you guys had a hard enough time out there already.'

'Sorry,' Maka mumbled.

'Never mind. It happens to the best of us. Here.'

Soul recoiled in surprise as Nygus held the soul out to him, its crimson glow casting light on the white of her bandages. Gingerly, he held his hands out and watched her drop the orb into them. It felt … strange. It wasn't quite solid, as though it belonged to some other world, yet he could still feel it quite firmly in his palms.

'I'll leave you two be. If you need anything, just come ask. We should be flying back to Nevada tomorrow morning.' And with that, Nygus was gone.

Soul couldn't take his eyes off the soul in his hands. It was a human being. Well, close to. It had been once, he'd learnt from one of his first classes. How weird. He hadn't actually thought about that until now.

A noise from Maka and he looked up. She turned away quickly but he could have sworn that she had been smirking at him.

'I've never seen one before,' he said defensively. Then: 'What am I supposed to do with it?'

'Oh, I thought you knew.'

'What?'

'Well, your name – never mind. You need to absorb the soul. Some Weapons absorb souls through their sheaves, others have them loaded into their magazines like bullets and others,' here she flashed him a small smile. 'Others eat them.'

Ah. Well. That was weird. He hadn't known anything about that when he'd chosen his name. Soul Eater. It had just sounded slightly menacing and cool.

'I guess I'll just –'

'Go ahead.'

He felt kind of embarrassed eating the soul in front of Maka. She was watching him intently, as though he were a science experiment.

Mustering up all his courage (or what was left of it, after the battle), he opened his mouth wide and placed his first soul inside.

Watching Maka's face light up and basking in the exquisite texture of it sliding down his throat, he vowed that it would definitely not be his last.


End file.
